The Way to Greatness
by Shintaro Kozu
Summary: Harry Potter is an 11 year old child with a peculiar habit of making strange and wondrous things happen, but even his abnormal life is changed completely when a letter addressed to him in emerald green ink appears. Years 1-4:T 5-6: M


_**The Way to Greatness**_

Chapter One: Cruel Intentions

Harry's breath hitched slightly as he looked at the emerald-green ink of a letter that was, quite clearly, addressed to him. His small hands, shaking with anticipation, flipped the envelope over to inspect it further.

"What's taking you so long, boy? Checking for letter bombs?" A voice shouted, startling the bespectacled boy, interrupting Harry from scrutinizing the parchment. It was when he had heard a throaty chuckle sound from the kitchen that Harry remembered what he was sent to do in the first place, get the mail for his Aunt and Uncle. Quickly he gathered up the postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, and the brown envelope into his hands. He then folded the thick yellowish envelope addressed to him and tucked it away in the waistband of his pants, hidden by his very large, hand-me-down shirt.

"Well," Vernon Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, grunted when Harry had entered the kitchen, "give it here."

Vernon's beefy hand was outstretched in expectation of the post. His fingers secured the mail that Harry had given him and scanned the postcard, reading the rather harsh handwriting that adorned it.

"Marge's ill," Vernon informed his wife, "Food poisoning."

Vernon then tore open the brown envelope while Harry watched. Evidently, it was a bill, as Harry had thought. Disgusted with the amount of money he would have to pay, Vernon cast it to the side and continued to read the newspaper he had, muttering something under his breath about electric companies.

The questions surrounding the mysterious letter addressed to Harry still occupied the boy's head. Who would want to write to him? No-one ever had a reason to. He had no friends (and the friends he had made didn't keep his company for long, Dudley made sure of that), and he didn't even own a library card, so he didn't even get those rather rude notes for over-due books.

"What are you doing, boy?" Uncle Vernon barked, once again breaking Harry's train of thought.

The black-haired boy blinked and realized that he was staring at Uncle Vernon, who was eyeing him rather suspiciously from above his newspaper, his face seemingly a bit pale. Harry's heart skipped a beat before he registered what exactly it was that his uncle had asked. For a brief moment, Harry had thought that Uncle Vernon had noticed the slightly unnatural bulge that gave away the thick envelope.

"Nothing, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, still looking at his uncle.

"Well, quit staring at me then," Uncle Vernon growled as he returned to his newspaper, "and go to your cupboard. "

Harry, doing as Uncle Vernon had told him, made his way toward his cupboard. As he passed Aunt Petunia his nose crinkled at the foul odor of her trying to dye Dudley's old clothes. His right hand held his letter securely to the waistband to prevent it from falling out. His pants were loose (another piece of Dudley's old clothes) so Harry had a hard time keeping his pants on him, let alone keeping a letter in there as well. He exited the kitchen, and silently sighed in relief.

During his whole time in the kitchen, Harry was certain that the Dursleys would discover that Harry was hiding something. They were always suspicious of Harry like that, and anything abnormal put them on edge, especially when Harry was involved. Uncle Vernon would always turn white whenever Harry was acting the tiniest bit strange, followed by a myriad of colors shortly after that signaled his displeasure, and Harry's impending punishment. This might be the first time Harry genuinely welcomed the confinement to the cupboard, as he wanted the privacy to look at the mysterious letter that was addressed to him. When he shut his cupboard door and sat down in a comfortable enough position, he quickly fished out and unfolded the envelope and took another look.

There was no stamp Harry noted as he examined the envelope without interruption. The emerald-green ink contrasted with the yellowish parchment and Harry frowned at the words _'The Cupboard under the Stairs.'_ It was frighteningly specific, almost as if the sender knew of Harry's situation, like he was being watched. He also knew, by the absence of the stamp, that this couldn't have been sent through the post. It had to have been hand-delivered by someone who knew where he slept... A terrifying, and very probable possibility punctured Harry's hope. He didn't know what exactly he wanted this letter to mean, or what he had hoped the contents of it were, but he certainly didn't want it to be some cruel joke played on him by Dudley.

Harry turned the letter over and saw a purple wax seal, ornately decorated with an 'H' and four majestic animals surrounding it. His fingers brushed the seal, feeling the contours made by the indents as he wondered what it was that he was going to find inside. With budding excitement (an excitement he tried to temper), Harry made to open the letter. His fingers ripping through the tough paper in his desire to reveal the secrets within.

 _ **HOGWARTS SCHOOL**_

 _ **of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall,_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

The instant Harry had read the contents and understood them, his stomach knotted and tightened. Hogwarts school of _Witchcraft and Wizardry? Await your OWL?_ All of it was nonsense, and the thought was further cemented when he read the second piece of parchment.

 _ **HOGWARTS SCHOOL**_

 _ **of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**_

 _ **UNIFORM**_

 _First-year students will require:_

 _1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

 _2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

 _3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

 _4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

 _ **Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags**_

 _ **COURSE BOOKS**_

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

 _A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

 _Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

 _A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

 _Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

 _ **OTHER EQUIPMENT**_

1 wand

 _1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

 _1 set glass or crystal phials_

 _1 telescope_

 _1 set brass scales_

 _Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

 _ **PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS**_

This was some kind of joke, no doubt at Harry's expense. However, part of Harry couldn't believe it. This seemed too elaborate to be something that Dudley had cooked up to torment him. But, what else could this be? Either it was Dudley, or there were wizards, people that can do real magic, watching Harry live out his days with the Dursley's in misery. No, this was Dudley, making good on his word that he would get Harry back for releasing that Brazilian Boa Constrictor on Dudley's birthday.

He had finally done it, and he had done it well.

It was the disappointment Harry had experienced that revealed to the ten year old boy what exactly it was that he was hoping for, an escape. He had often dreamed of someone taking him away from the Dursley's. Sometimes, it would be his parents (or people he thought were his parents) and other times it was a giant wild man accompanied by the sound of wind. However, it was impossible for his parents to take him away from the Dursley's because it was their death by a car accident that had brought Harry here in the first place.

A sudden flash of bright green light went off in Harry's mind, it's vivid green shade more vibrant than the ink that adorned the ripped envelope that lay forgotten on Harry's lap. An intense pain accompanied the burst of green, and Harry clutched at his scar, his face scrunched up in an effort to subdue it, but to no avail. Harry was very familiar with this pain, which felt awfully like a hot iron had been resting on his forehead. He was also very familiar with the feeling of _something evil_ coming his way, seeking him out. His hairs stood on edge as suddenly he felt very unsafe. His body shivered and his eyes glanced around the small, cramped cupboard. He couldn't help but feel that some unknown danger lurking behind every corner, living in the shadows that his sight couldn't penetrate. A word sounded off in Harry's head, tying all of the complex emotions together.

Dread.

This feeling of dread, along with the pain and mysterious green burst of light always occurred whenever Harry thought about his parents and their deaths. He was certain that it was a memory, but could never recall anything more and whenever he tried, the pain would get unbearable and the feeling of dread would intensify.

After what seemed like an eternity, the feeling subsided and the pain gave way to nothing but a slight and rapid pulsing, and Harry returned his focus to Dudley's revenge. It's intentions and implications were as obvious. Dudley's favorite title to describe Harry was ' _Freak_ ,' and the fat boy took every chance he could to remind Harry and everyone else. Dudley often relished in telling stories to his friends (or to anyone that would listen) about his demented cousin that he was forced to live with. And the truth was that sometimes, Harry found himself agreeing with Dudley. Strange things often happened around Harry and as much as he wanted to he often couldn't explain them away. These instances had always troubled Harry, and while he was alone, he often wondered about them. He wondered why they happened to him and no one else. He wondered why he wasn't normal.

RIP!

His hands tore the papers in half, determined not to let his fat cousin get the best of him anymore.

Harry didn't notice that the parchment was damp with his tears.

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

Harry's unconsciously wiped his eyes and timidly responded, "H-hello?"

"Hey, Freak, Mum and Dad want you in the kitchen."

Sighing, Harry got up and opened the cupboard door to see his fat cousin, Dudley. The bespectacled boy ducked through the tiny doorway, and tried to move passed the grotesque mound of a human, but Dudley spoke up.

"Your eyes are red."

It was a dumb, thick observation, spoken in a dumb, thick tone - but Harry immediately tried to avoid eye contact with Dudley. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Dudley's mouth formed a wide smirk, "You've been crying, haven't you?"

"No." Harry responded immediately, defensive. He refused to let Dudley see the result of his prank. However, Dudley was having none of that, his fat face leaned in close to Harry's and his harms held the black-haired boy in place so he could scrutinize.

"You have, haven't you!" Dudley exclaimed gleefully, "What was it then? You finally found out no one likes you?"

Harry's cousin let go of Harry and chuckled as Harry made his way past Dudley to the kitchen.

* * *

"VERNON!"

A shrill cry woke Harry up with a start, and he sat up suddenly.

"VERNON, LOOK AT THIS!"

Harry heard heard heavy, sluggish footsteps as well as the voice of Uncle Vernon, grumbling about being woken up. Harry had no clock in his cupboard, but he had assumed that it was in the middle of the night judging from the tone Uncle Vernon had as the man crabbily questioned his spouse.

Suddenly, there was silence.

Then, footsteps.

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

"WAKE UP!" Uncle Vernon's voice bellowed as he knocked on the cupboard, shaking the dust loose from the low ceiling of the cupboard compartment. Harry's heart pounded in fright, and his mind raced. After a few seconds of more pounding and shouting, the boy timidly turned his light on and reached for his broken and taped together glasses.

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

Harry opened the door, revealing his red faced Uncle, who was about to let loose another salvo of knocks. Harry looked up, groggy and nonplussed, while Uncle Vernon was menacingly expectant, looking fit to burst.

For a second, there was silence.

Harry flinched and instinctively closed his eyes when he saw Uncle Vernon's arm move rapidly up, but when nothing happened, his eyes opened. Yellowish parchment with Emerald green ink was what had first greeted Harry's vision, and his eyes then moved to Vernon's face.

"Explain this!" Uncle Vernon barked, waving the envelope angrily in front of Harry's face, "Explain this now!"

Harry couldn't explain, partly out of fear, and partly because he _couldn't_ explain it. He didn't understand why Uncle Vernon had a letter that he had ripped up the day previously. Had Dudley made another one? What for, Harry wondered. Was this another act of revenge? To let his Aunt and Uncle think that he was a wizard? Surely his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon weren't _that_ stupid? After all, they didn't hold with such nonsense.

"Where did you get that?" Harry asked, finally finding his voice.

"Where do you think, boy?" growled Uncle Vernon, who was apparently not pleased with the lack of explanation, "it was just slipped through the mail slot!"

"But that makes no sense," Harry began, talking to himself more than his uncle, "Dudley-"

Vernon went white at the mention of his son, and then his beefy hand shot out and grabbed Harry by the collar, pulling him close so that Harry's green irises got a good look at Vernon's beefy black eyes.

"Dudley," the older, fatter man started, "has nothing to do with this. He isn't like _you._ " Uncle Vernon's grip tightened on Harry's collar, and the man pulled the boy even closer to him than he had been previously.

"Now," Uncle Vernon continued, his voice filled with threatening menace, "Who have you been talking to? Who have you told about the cupboard?"

"No-one," Harry said as he vainly struggled against his Uncle, "I swear!" However, Uncle Vernon looked unconvinced, and his hand did nothing to loosen its grip. Harry looked pleadingly at his uncle, desperately hoping that his Uncle would let go of him.

"Ouch!" Uncle Vernon shouted, instantly letting so of his nephew. His hand was red and swollen and it looked as though the skin and it looked as though the skin of his palm had begun to peel. Vernon looked at Harry, his eyes full of fear. Steam emanated from Harry's torso, and the boy felt a strange heat enveloped him.

"In the cupboard," Uncle Vernon gasped, his voice full of pain, "Now!"

When the door was shut and the lock engaged, Harry found himself thinking about the events that had just occurred. What had just happened? Harry had no idea, but what had happened between him and Uncle Vernon wasn't the only thing that Harry had on his mind, the letter was as well. The boy had thought that his fat cousin, Dudley, had set the letter as cruel joke at his expense when he first laid eyes on it, but now…

Harry was no longer sure.

* * *

 **A/N Note: Shintaro here, bringing to you a Harry Potter fiction that I think will be interesting. I am deeply tempted not to give anything away, but I think I might give the pairing away just as a courtesy for those that can't stand it. It shall be Harmony (Harry/Hermione). There is a giant clue as to where this story will be going in the title of the fiction, if you know what it is (or think you do) please send me a PM telling me! I think this will be an interesting ride, as Harry is going a different path with some major consequences...**

 **Now, my life is pretty hectic, and I have other obligations (Naruto: Shattered), so this might be put off to an infrequent posting schedule, please bear with it!**

 **I would like to send my immense thanks to beta Charlemagne Gryffis, who's advice is invaluable and with whom I have found a wonderful partner**

 **~SK**


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